


House of Dreams

by AtLeastIWasThere



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer Arc (X-Files), F/M, Post-Cancer Arc (X-Files)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26538871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtLeastIWasThere/pseuds/AtLeastIWasThere
Summary: Now the air was too thick between them. She wanted to believe him, she almost did. So clearly she could see them in a house deep in the Pennsylvania countryside. Perhaps she would work at the county hospital and he would stay home — be an amateur farmer maybe? She could see him talking to a little girl with her hair and his eyes, he’d whisper her stories of their adventures in the ways he’d tell her about a case — so quiet — so gentle — so eager to make her believe it. Then she remembered where they were, felt the thin hospital gown stick to her bones, and how her cheeks had thinned. She thought of the cancer lodged in her sinuses and how it was rapidly spreading throughout her body and it was then the mirage disappeared.“Mulder,” she whispered, finishing her turn until they were face to face.“Don’t,” he said, “Just believe, just a little longer, then you’ll see.”
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	House of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> So this was meant to be small vignettes of Mulder and Scully when she's in the hospital during her Cancer Arc. Welppppp vignettes turned into a nine-page fanfic so. . . hope y'all are ready for some unedited Mulder and Scully fluff! I'm literally obsessed with how in love these two are T_T

Scully had been admitted into the hospital for her cancer. The doctors had warned her, warned him that it would probably be her last visit unless something changed. Mulder had refused to believe it, of course, not even when Scully had mentioned Father McCue would pay her a visit. He spent his days in their office, trying to ignore the gaping hole she left at his side, trying to find anything that led to a cure.

He couldn’t stay away from her, not for long anyway. If he wasn’t asleep or at the office, he was in the chair next to her bed. “You okay?” he said one evening, as he tossed their dinner in the bin. Scully had tried to be polite, she was a medical doctor after all, but she was getting tired of hospital food. He had their typical Chinese take out order under his suit jacket, not giving a damn if the smell of cashew chicken and fried rice stuck to the fabric. 

Scully looked up at him and shrugged, “I’m a little cold.”

He smiled though he could tell the news was weighing on her, “When I come by tomorrow I’ll bring my Oxford sweatshirt — that should keep you warm while you wait to get out of this icebox.” 

It had become this ritual for them, to dance around her diagnosis, to dance around the fact that she was on borrowed time. He watched as she struggled, a knot rose in her throat as her eyes filled with tears, “I’m not ready to die, Mulder,” she said plainly, the first time she had admitted to him she knew she was going to die.

“Dana,” he leaned on his knees, grabbing her hand, “You’re not going to die. You have to believe me, just this once.”

She shook her head, tired and cold, exhausting from fighting for so long, “Why?” she found herself whispering.

“Because,” he tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, “sometimes it’s worth it to believe.”

Scully pursed her lips and nodded, his hand was still gripping hers when she found herself saying, “Can you hold me? I just don’t want to be alone.” Visitors weren’t supposed to spend the night, that was a rule that was frequently pointed out to him. He had always stayed close, in the neighboring chair, but now he could see that fear heightened in Dana’s eyes, she didn’t want to die alone.

Mulder nodded, then stepped over to the other side of her bed. She could hear him breathing over the beeping sounds of the machines in her room, could hear his shoes resting against the floor as he slipped them off. Then she felt all of his warmth around her as his arm came to wrap around her waist. It was nice to be tucked there, pretending to be far away from this hospital, to pretend this disease wasn’t eating at her that very moment.

“Do you remember that house?” He mumbled after a few minutes. His arm had found its way under her pillow and somehow reached her other hand. Scully was strong, over a foot smaller than him -- sure, but he was just reminded of how strong she was by the way she clenched his hand.

“What house?” she turned a little to see the bridge of his nose brushing against her cheek.

“When I told you that if I ever had to build a house, settle down, it’d be somewhere far away from the city. Just a quiet little spot — do you remember that?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t help but smile. They were investigating the death of the infant — he wanted to go whereas she wanted to stay. Their roles for once, she mused, had swapped. It was the Pennsylvania Mayberry case -- Sheriff Andy and Deputy Barney and all, “Yes I remember.”

“Just tell me when and we’ll go.”

“Go?” She froze, not sure why he’d want to revisit the sites of one of their most awful cases.

“Yes, just say the word Scully and I’ll pack our bags and we’ll get the hell out of here. We’ll build a house out in the middle of nowhere, where no one could find us.” Not even the men who did this to you, he wanted to say, but still, the air was thick with the thought of it, “You can have that kitchen island you’ve always wanted and —“

“and a wrap-around porch to look for UFOs,” she laughed, teasing him while letting the tension fall from her shoulders.

“Two chairs,” he breathed in her hair, “and we’d stay there until we’re old and grey and nothing but the sounds of our grandkids can be heard for miles.”

Now the air was too thick between them. She wanted to believe him, she almost did. So clearly she could see them in a house deep in the Pennsylvania countryside. Perhaps she would work at the county hospital and he would stay home — be an amateur farmer maybe? She could see him talking to a little girl with her hair and his eyes, he’d whisper her stories of their adventures in the ways he’d tell her about a case — so quiet — so gentle — so eager to make her believe it. Then she remembered where they were, felt the thin hospital gown stick to her bones and how her cheeks had thinned. She thought of the cancer lodged in her sinuses and how it was rapidly spreading throughout her body and it was then the mirage disappeared.

“Mulder,” she whispered, finishing her turn until they were face to face.

“Don’t,” he said, “Just believe, just a little longer, then you’ll see.”

Scully pursed her lip and blinked, slowly nodding her head, “Okay.” Only for Mulder, she thought, only for him she’d try to believe.

— — — — — —

He’d awoken before they’d been caught, by nurses or her mother. If a nurse had seen them, they certainly hadn’t snitched on him yet. So when Maggie Scully appeared with a stack of magazines and a small bag of bagels and cream cheese, Fox pretended like he had only stopped by on the way to work, “I should get going now,” he rubbed his cheek, the unshaven stubble plain as day.

“Thank you Fox,” Margaret Scully said, placing her hands on his shoulders, “You have no idea what a blessing you’ve been to Dana, and our family.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Mrs. Scully, I’d do anything to help her, and you.”

“Mulder?” Scully’s voice stirred, her eyes flickering over to the spot where he and her mother stood. “Hi Mom,” she smiled before looking back at Mulder, “You have to go?”

He walked back over to her bedside, “Just for a few hours. My partner’s out of the office and I need to do all of that paperwork correctly or she’ll beat me with a wooden mallet when she comes back.” They both smiled, “But I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise.”

The bottom of her lip trembled, and he knew that belief she promised was fading fast. She was scared, the what-if rang in his ears, what if this is our last goodbye? He leaned in as he always did when they said goodbye these days — his aim for a shy kiss on the cheek. But then Dana’s hand stopped him, her thin fingers lined his jaw. That thin rope between them tightened as he readjusted into her cool palm. He leaned forward again, this time her hand guiding him until their mouths met. It felt like a first kiss, or maybe a hundredth, neither was sure as he pulled away. “I’m leaving you in good company,” he mused, “I’ll see you this afternoon?” He wouldn’t leave her until he saw that she was ok, not until he saw the hint of her signature smile.

Mulder grabbed his coat from the nearby chair, “I’ll call before I come back to see if she needs anything,” he said to her mother. She smiled and patted his arm before moving to sit at Scully’s side.

— — — — — —

A few days later Scully snuggled in the sweatshirt Mulder had promised to bring. It had certainly seen better days with the color being washed away and paint slowly fading away. It had kept her warm where the sandpaper sheets hadn’t, and it smelled vaguely like cinnamon and cedar. Scully was sipping on a fresh cup of tea, honey included, when one of the nurses remarked, “Your husband is a sweet man,” and she froze. 

“Husband?” Scully blew over the top of the lid.

“Yeah that tall handsome lookin’ fellow, expensive suits?” Scully smiled into her cup, it hadn’t been the first time someone had mistaken them for a couple, was mistake the right word she wondered now as the soft voice of her nurse flittered over her honey-drenched steam, “It’s hard to find a good one like him, he always makes sure that he can bring you your favorite things. Although,” the middle-aged woman smiled, patting the edge of Scully’s bed, “I can tell he’s a rule breaker.”

For once Scully let the comment slide, “You have no idea,” she muttered into her tea, “You have absolutely no idea.”

“Hey,” a familiar voice popped in, Scully looked up and saw Mulder.

“Speak of the devil,” she mumbled to her nurse.

“Well,” she smiled, “I’ll be on my way. I’ll see you for dinner in a few hours Ms. Scully.”

“Should I be worried?” Mulder’s eyes followed the nurse as she left the room, then he turned back to Scully. He hadn’t seen her eyes light up like that in days as if she had a fun secret she was keeping from him.

“No,” she said as he leaned in, his lips connecting with her for a few seconds, “Just my nurse thinks you’re a rule breaker.”

Mulder busted out laughing, “You’ve been spreading my reputation to the medical staff over here, I should've known Dana Scully would find a way to get me in trouble here.”

— — — — — — — 

He almost couldn’t believe it himself. He’d had faith, but to hear the doctor say it, he could hardly breathe properly. Mulder sat outside her room, letting her mother and brother hug her as he eavesdropped on the following steps. “How are you tonight Mr. Mulder?” He looked up to see one of her nurses. The one that Scully had said could tell her had a spirit for trouble.

“I,” he began, “I feel like I’m in a dream.”

She smiled, putting her hand on his shoulder, “sometimes it feels like that when we get good news. But it’s not a dream, Ms. Scully will get to go home soon. My advice? Get her something good to eat, and make sure she feels right at home.”

Home? He thought for a moment, she hadn’t been home in months. Mulder could imagine her walking in and seeing the thin layer of dust, the smell of a cluttered apartment itching at her. In his daydream, he could practically smell the lemon wipes being pulled from their spot in the kitchen.

“You know I will,” he smiled, “Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

“It’s just my duty.”

Mulder stood from his chair and peaked in. Scully’s eyes immediately found his as her mother and Bill Jr. turned to look at him. “I don’t mean to interrupt,” he began, ”but I thought I would say goodbye before I head out.”

“Is everything ok?” Dana asked, her brow furrowing.

“Everything is fine Scully,” perfect he wanted to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” That answer was good enough for her as he nodded at the others and left the hospital. It took him a little over twenty minutes to get to her apartment in Georgetown, and only three minutes to fumble around in his pockets for the right key.

It was just as Scully had left it, a stray book laying open and unmarked on her coffee table -- a wool blanket lying on the back of her sofa. The air felt tight, closed in, he and Mrs. Scully had snuck in a few times to grab a few things for her but they had never stayed long. He couldn’t even manage to get a whiff of that familiar scent of linen and cinnamon that he was so accustomed to. 

He went over to her bookshelf and pulled out one of her favorite candles and lit the small flame. It was a little past one o'clock in the morning, there was plenty of time to make the apartment feel like home again. He’d finish before breakfast was served, go to the hospital, and bring her home.

Mulder spent the next several hours dusting, vacuuming, and straightening every square inch of Scully’s apartment. He’d set fresh linens in her room, and let the smell of the lemon wipes cling to the counters in her bathroom and kitchen. It was only when he had set out a clean tea towel by the stove when he heard the handle to the front door jingle. Instinct tightened in his chest as he reached for his gun that wasn’t there, he’d left his holster at his apartment in Alexandria.

“Here we go,” he heard Margaret Scully’s voice as the door creaked open, “home sweet home.” Both women stopped dead in their tracks at the lights being on, the radio cooing the morning news show, and then they saw Mulder. He stepped out slowly from the kitchen, “Fox,” Maggie smiled, putting Scully’s bag on the floor, “Is this what you were doing all night?”

Scully walked in, her nerves tightening in her shoulders as she looked around her apartment, “It was nothing,” she heard Mulder say, “I know Dana likes her things a certain way and well, I just didn’t want her to worry about anything.”

“Dana,” she turned to see her mom, “I’m going to put your things in your room.”

Scully licked her lips, and waited until her mother’s footsteps were faint, “Thank you,” she said looking up at Mulder, “you didn’t have to do this.”

He took a few steps towards her, “I wanted to.” Because it’s my fault you were given this disease, it’s my fault you were abducted, it’s my fault your sister isn’t here. All those thoughts came flooding through his mind until they fell short. Scully sucked in a breath, her eyes wet as she leaned into him, their arms scooping each other up. She blinked, letting his scent wrap around her the way his sweatshirt had at the hospital, “I never thought I’d see this place again, I never thought I’d be here with you again.”

“I told you, Scully,” he squeezed her, then looked down, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek, “sometimes it’s worth it to believe.”

“Thank you,” she said again, her heart filling with all of the wonders of his beliefs. How she became one of them she’ll never understand, and maybe she didn’t want to understand. She reached up on her tiptoes, gripping his arms as he leaned in to brush his mouth against hers. “Fox,” she said when she set the balls of her feet back down on the floor. Scully felt a grin form on his mouth at the use of his first name, then she looked up and saw it for herself, “Were you serious earlier?” His brow tightened, as confusion spread over his features, “about the house with the island and the porch?”

Mulder’s face softened, his fingers combed through her red hair alleviating any concern she had, “Of course I was.” She smiled letting her hand fall to his wrist, a nudge to keep him with her as long as she could. Mulder leaned down and kissed her again, adding a bit more pressure, holding her tightly, “You just say the word,” he whispered against her lips, “and we’ll go there.”

Together they heard the steadily approaching footsteps of Maggie Scully and took a few steps away from one another, though the look she gave the both of them told the pair that they weren’t fooling anyone. “Dana sweetheart,” she said, “Do you need anything else?”

“I think I’m okay for right now, it’s just nice to be home.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “I know Fox will take good care of you.”

Scully stepped forward and hugged her mother, “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“No hurry, call me whenever you’re settled.”

Once the door of her apartment was shut Scully looked back, “So,” she began, “What do you want to do?”

Mulder busted out laughing, and she couldn’t help but feel a little bruised, “Scully it’s not even 9 o’clock in the morning, you have to be exhausted. I know you’ve been up just as long as I have.”

Leaning against her couch she pursed her lips, “I’m not that tired, but I--”

“No buts,” Mulder said, “You should put your pajamas on and go to sleep.”

Deep down she knew he was right, with the medications wearing off and with the warmth of her home she was feeling cozy enough to crash right there against the couch, “Alright,” she agreed, although begrudgingly. By the time Scully had gone into her bathroom and changed into a pair of fuzzy pajamas, Mulder had pulled back the fresh sheets on her bed. She almost wanted to sigh out loud as she climbed in, there was nothing she loved more than laying in a pair of freshly washed sheets.

“Hey,” she grabbed Mulder’s wrist as he turned to walk away, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Scully, you need to go to sleep. I have a few more things I need to do in the kitchen and --”

“And they can wait until later. You said it yourself, we’ve both been up all night,” she fought the urge to yawn as she tugged on his wrist, “We’ll take this nap, then get some lunch?” She could see the way he was toying with the idea in his brain, looking anywhere else in her room but her, “I promise to keep my hands to myself,” she teased. Now that caught his attention as he laughed, then squeezed her hand in an acceptance of defeat. 

It was like it had been a few days ago as he walked over to the other side of her bed. Still, she could feel the slight hesitation from his end as he tugged off his shoes and lifted the covers. And then there he was, all warmth with the scent of aged cedar fuming off his skin, pressing into her back, “I’m not ready yet,” she said after a few minutes, “but I will be soon.”

“Hm?” he mumbled into her shoulder, “ready for what?”

“To build our house of dreams.”

He smiled, tugging her closer, “I’m in no rush,” Mulder’s voice whispered over the early glimpses of morning. They had all the time in the world, they realized, not cancer, not cigarette smoking government men could keep them from it.


End file.
